


Afterglow

by MysticalMaker



Category: The Small Faces (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28249785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticalMaker/pseuds/MysticalMaker
Summary: [noun] The colour left in the sky after the sun has set or good feelings that remain after a successful or pleasurable experience.Set during 1968: There’s two sides to Marriott, just like there are two sides of the moon.
Relationships: Ronnie Lane/Steve Marriott
Kudos: 1





	Afterglow

**Author's Note:**

> I was impaled with the lack of fanfiction of this group, so things are about to change around here.

These were the days of speed, of teenage humor and fashion. The fun playful times with the boys and their colourful blazers and mod suits had been replaced with the loose exotic patterns and new treads.

On stage the band was ecstatic and wild. The trashing of instruments and the intense dragged out humming of Steve's guitar. His long dirty blonde hair was banging and moving in time to the riveting movements of the guitar, accompanied by the thrashing of the drums and the clankering thump of Ronnie’s bass.

_♫ “Love is all around me, Everywhere. Love has come to touch my soul.”_

Steve had a little spark to his eye and a cheeky crooked smile. Every now and then, he would lock eyes with Ronnie to his right. They would then both laugh joyfully, and often that would result in him stuffing up on his vocal cues. But he felt the music and took it on with a light quirky humor. The electricity was flowing, especially through his legs, with the quick twist of his ankles. 

_♫ “I'm happy just to be with you, and loving you the way I do! yeah!”_

He suddenly roared out, his voice powerful and strong. He was raw and full of so much soul. This could be seen through the straining of his neck muscles and vocal cords. At the base of his neck and around Steve’s ruffled and slightly-opened collar, Ronnie noticed little pink marks lined his skin. A second look revealed them to be a layering of hickeys. Steve was definitely an invigorating wild one. 

_♫ “Just resting in the afterglow of your love.”_

At each passionate strum of his guitar, he liked to whip his arm above his head to enthuse his humming guitar. This action would loosen the ruffled blouse that was tucked into the waistband of his velvet pants.

Into the next song, and with the fluttering of his eyes. Steve’s heavy eyelids closed, as he began to get into the groove and the feel of the music. He possessed such beautiful, smooth features. 

Ronnie couldn’t help but be captivated by his performance, applying his harmonies where it was needed. There was a charm and warmth to him. There’s two sides to Marriott, just like there are two sides of the moon. He can be aloof and a fucking charmer with those wide eyes, crooked grin. That boyhood drug-related humor, “Nice” which he usually enthuses about, and his voice drenched in full cockney. Yet he also had a serious, almost elegant demeanor about him. Despite not seeing it in the humor of their songs, he took his passion and interest for music very seriously and at the same time not so seriously at all. It was a part of him. 

….

There was little time for him to unwind since his mind was always racing. However, Steve liked to reside at his Beehive cottage. Watching the sunset, light through the trees of his back garden, with the dogs running around, enjoying the last light of the day. 

A dog’s wet nose brushed the back of Ronnie’s hand and gave it a quick lick before running off to join the others. From a distance, Ronnie watched Steve interacting with the pack of dogs. He watched the way his sandy hair was set alight in the dying sun’s rays, framing his face. It was such a _beautiful_ sight to behold. 

He was running around and playing with all of the dogs, as they licked his face. Steve was laughing, his smile absolutely beaming from all of the sloppy wet kisses he was receiving. The lot of them raced around the green pasture, with the flock of chickens and ducks following their every move. The animals were all crazy about him. 

It was just Ronnie and him this late afternoon. Jenny, Steve’s flame, was out visiting some friends, On the back patio, Ronnie was watching him, with his hands loosely placed in the comfort of the back pockets of his pants. He had a smug grin on his face. Despite some small quarrels they’ve had in the studio, all was well.

Below him in the plant pots of the wild daisies, were the remains of cigarette buds which were extinguished and left in the soil for the weeds to grow around. A few of the cats were sunbathing on the cottage’s windowsill, washing themselves and soaking in the last few minutes of the lowering sun’s warmth. 

Now inside, Ronnie lit the gas top stove with a strike of a match. He waited for the flame ring to settle down before placing the kettle on top, letting it slowly boil. On the scruffy floorboards, he taped his foot in time to the tunes of the acoustic guitar being played in the other room.

Steve strummed carelessly, playing little melodies he lazily made up on the spot - Steve was spontaneous after all.

“Now dig this,” Steve excitedly exclaimed, calling from the living room, as Ronnie entered with their cups of tea. 

The fireplace had warmed up the living room of mix matched tattered sofas and rugs. Lucy was at Steve’s feet and Steve was scratching her behind the ears as the dog had her head in his lap. Eventually, Lucy curled up beside him on the floor, at the base of his feet.


End file.
